How Long Could This possibly Last?

How long could this he possibly last. I told you guys last time that I wasn't sure which road I was going to take. Go down the road of continuous disappointment that I had been traveling since coming back home, or take that final step to the road closer to recovery. I chose to try it, what the hell. I have been eating, not restricting, but just eating if I feel like it, othertimes, not feeling hungry, so I don't eat. I might decide to have some peanut butter cookies at eleven o'clock at night after jsut eating some spaghetti. I am careful, though. I know that if I eat pizza or a big bowl of cereal while at home alone, I will be tempted to purge it up, so instead I decide to have a pop-tart or an apple. I run 4, 5, 6, 7 days a week, whenever I feel like it. I know it has part to do with him, but for now, I will just be happy with the gift he has unintentionally given me - a life worth living.

He has been coming in my work since I started working there. He always used the make small remarks of how we should hang out, since I never do anything besides work. Well, finally, I gave him my number and we have hung out a couple of times. I find that I am happier. I care more. I still see a distorted mirror now and again, but that is something that I will have to learn to accept of myself. I need to realize that although I am not perfect, I am happy. Happier now than I have been in some time. True, I deleted everyone from my life. Every friend who stood by me, I dropped them for no reason other than the fact that I could not stand to see them happier than myself. How long will this/he last? What will happen when he leaves for tour next month? Will I turn around and run back to the path well-trodden or will I stay strong and hope when he gets back four weeks later, I can say proudly that I stayed strong. He knows that I used to cut, and he still wants to hang out with me. He came over Sunday night until 230am, until I was falling asleep. He saw the ones on my stomach, due to my shirt riding up, and asked if I would tell him what happened. He hugged me and told me he was glad I didn't hurt so bad anymore. Then we went to his house last night and he made me dinner. I didn't even worry that it was going to make me fat. Still, though, he has yet to kiss me. But I guess I am just used to guys who are overly more confident than myself, I am out of my element. He seems like I am, goes one little tip-toe to getting closer to intimate every time I see him. I don't know, I'm sure nop one wants to read this so I will just stop.

I'm not sure if I will keep coming back here or not. It is too triggering and I am mostly getting better at this recovery thing. Some days it hurts, some days I jump for joy at life. At new possibilities. I might make a sub at work and decide I am not hungry anymore, then the next day decide I want a pretzel with cheese dip. It is a work in progress, but one that I am willing to try to work through. Being on here will just pull me back in.

So, seven years later, I am accepting my body, mostly, for how it naturally should be. I don't know where this path will lead me to, or if I will be just another statistic, and relapse due to self-recovery almost never works. Hopefully I can be strong and maybe one day, when we are both ready, we can finally see each other again. I hope you get better soon, my love, I ache to think of the pain you are going through. I love you forever and always. Philosraptors and forgotten nights and staying up late high off life and each other. I love you no matter what I do or say.

The Answer. Unknown.

The other day I tore apart my room. Looking for my long-forgotten razors.

I found them.
I used them.

Did I feel better? I couldn't say even if I had wanted to. I don't understand myself anymore. My actions do not follow my thoughts, my desires do not follow with the realm of what could be as much as what used to be and will never be again.

I am not moving in with her agian. Hell if I ever even talk to her again. After my last post, she sent me a collection of apartment listings far higher than we could comfortably afford without worrying month to month. I was working a lot so I never got a chance to andwer her back for a few days more. When I finally did, I had found the perfect place. ALL included, in our homnetown, everything. I knew the other people in the building and they gave rave reviews. I sent her the link and she responded my telling me that she was moving in with another friend now because she never heard from me and decided I was unreliable. I asked her if she had planned on telling mw thins and she said she figured I would have gotten in touch with her eventually. I couldn't believe it. The one person I am still in touch with and she does this. I tried to talk to her and she said that it did not matter, what was done was done. 'Then, yes, what's done is done. Thank you so fucking much for your support.'
And I have yet to tlak to her since. I do not plan on talking to her again. At least not for a while. I realize I am slowly pushing everyone away, but I don't know how to stop myself, or if I even want to.

I was on my way to the movies with my sister last night, and as I drove by the gas station, I passed a car trying to pull out onto the roadway. I was going quite slow so I glanced into the car. And pain surprise lost love showed upon my face. It was him. I swear it. He saw me and leaned out the window as if trying to get a better look. I was not completely sure it was him, part of me thinks I was jsut seeing him because I want to, that it was someone who looks uncannily like him. But I have no sure way of knowing. Nonetheless, I felt my heart break all over again. I felt it crumble to the bottoms of my feet and settle in waves content to just remain there than mend it.

I know it is a recurring theme in my posts lately, and I am sorry, but I feel I am so lonely and have been for so long that I don't know how to not be. I tell them that I am content with the social life I lack to lead, but is that really the truth? Sometimes I wish I had friends that I wanted to go out and party and have fun with people when they ask me. But I always find myself declining, smiling softly and making excuses as to why I am unable. I feel if the sky were to fall to pieces around me, I would barely flinch. More likely, i would fall to pieces right with it and hardly care. After all the pieces fell, what would be left would be a small hole of what, I do not know. I love to hate myself. What would happen when there is nothing left to hate but an empty shell?

I don't know what I am doing when it comes to food and myself. I am not eating as much as I should, and what I do eat id not the best for me. At least every other day, I run four miles on my treadmill, and walk every day for an least half an hour while reading. I tried not to purge last night after eating far too much. I tried to just go to sleep and ignore it. I woke up about an hour later feeling so sick I couldn't not do something. So into the bathroom I went. Feeling somewhat better, I popped seven Dulcolax and called it a night. Waking every twenty minutes or so. For the past week or so, I haven't been able to shake off the latest bout of sadness that often engulfs me. I might feel ok for a little while, but as soon as my mind has a chance it reminds my heart that, Hey, you suck and no one loves you. There is no reason for you to be happy. Why are you happy? But why am I sad? The answer remains unknown.

Is it better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all, to know that you are now alone and don't know love from hate anymore?

Falling in Love, Falling in the Mud

Where to begin...

I suppose, I will just go in order? Firstly, I finally got my treadmill up! It is great, every morning I get up and almost immediately go running for at least 30 minutes. I feel like I can finally get back on track, somewhat, anyways. The food here still tempts me, though.

Which leads to the next -- I am likely moving out! Finally, out of my parents house, out of random mood swings (from others) and tip-toeing around. One of my few and greatest friend asked me if I would get a two-bedroom apartment with them, and, well the more I thought about it, the more the idea grew into an action and once I had the sprout growing, I could not stop it. Hopefully, I will be looking at it on Thursday and making my final decision. I know I will miss my brother and sister and even my parents, but it's not like I will be two hundred miles away again. Only about fifteen miles, twenty minute drive, tops. Moving in with this friend, I will not need to hide. They are, I do believe more similar to me than they realize. She is a 'health nut' on a close level of mine, so temptation will be out the door, competition begin.

On to my last point I have been meaning to make... as much as it pains me to say, it is so hard for me to see you. I do love you, we share so much. You are the one that probably knows just about every secret. Almost. However, I seclude myself for a reason. Though I do not know this reason to a point to allow myself to explain it to you, it is true. Every time you pop in and surprise me, I feel my self-esteem fall, feel the rubble of what is left of my heart drift bit by bit by the passing wind. I feel the vice tighten around me. I wish I could cover up my heart, remove it from my sleeve, bury it on a deserted island where no one would find it. Please do not worry. I do still love you, but I feel I am unable to express my mind as to the innerworkings of my being with you any longer. I wrote you a letter. I sealed it away. Will I give it to you? Would you read it would you digest it or purge it and pretend it never happened would I hear back from you or would I lose you forever? I am terrified I will be left behind so I run. Run so far my feet begin to bleed. Soon they will only be stumps left in the dust. How will I run then?

Scream So Loud That No One Can Hear You Cry

I haven't really been very motivated lately. I don't really know what to do. I am at a loss. Other than work and reading... I really don't care about anything else. For the past two weeks, I haven't even logged into my school courses. I wanted to drop them, but they said that if I did, I would have to pay all the tuition and fees myself, becasue my financial aid would not disperse. SO, I am going to 'stay in the classes' and then just not go back next semester. I was so sure of what I wanted to do with my life. Go to school, graduate, get a job helping others like myself. However, all of that now seems irrelevant - so far away. I felt as though I were wasting my time in school. I am now the official store manager and on my way to gaining another store in the next year or so. Quite honestly, as pathetic as it may seem, I feel like maybe...

This is it. This is what I will have to show for the rest of my short life. Subway. I mean, I guess I could make this work. I just can't see myself sticking with school anymore. Last year fucked me up beyond belief and I guess that's why. That's why I feel like, if I can get control of at least one thing in my life, and drop the thing that terrifies me, maybe everything will be better. At least for now, maybe.

I am going to tell you guys how much I weigh. Just because of the fact that I think it may motivate me to get back down. The past week-two weeks, I have been purging AT LEAST twice a day. It has gotten to the point that every time I use that toothbrush, I feel the lacerations on the very back edge of my tongue. But no matter how much it hurts, I cannot stop. Because I know, that no matter how scared I am, I will always feel better once I get it out. I even started to purge at work. We have our own employee prvate bathroom, so I don't have to worry about anyone coming in while I am in the stall, dieing.

Sometimes, I look at myself and see someone who is smaller. Someone who others may envy to be this size, but barely a second after that thought crosses my mind, I snap out of dreamland and back to my world of tear-soaked pillows, crying in the dark, screaming in the empty house, hoping no one will come home while I am bent double over the void that take my problems momentarily away. I must always remind myself of the girl that once was. The girl that smiled and had friends and had a life. I see that girl as though looking through an old warped stained glass window. She looks at me with pity and trust. If only I could tell her - scream to her - to talk to someone, to trust on others as she trusted in me, in herself, rather than push everyone away and pretend it was thier fault. They no longer cared, no longer wanted to sit with her at the lunch table, invite her to parties, invite her to the movies and a night of staying up all night talking about how we were the outcasts, we were the different ones, the ones that were better. In reality, it was her, me, that ran away from reality, from friends, from everyone who ever cared.

Even to this day, I realize I am... detached(?) from my family. My brother and sister love hanging with my parents, hugging them. I couldn't even bring myself to touch them without cringing. Even for my graduation photos, I remember, the picture seemed staged. My posture gently detached from the touch of care, from the touch that meant a bond. There was no bond, just a void. A crater that fell through and through the day my world came tumbling apart. I wish I could tell that little girl that, the first time her mother left, her own heart would break. Everything would not always be ok. That even though after a few days, her mom will come back, she will leave again. You cannot watch anothers heart break without experiencing little hairline fractures of the heart yourself. The heart can only take so much before it crumbles to pieces, no longer able to hold itself together with hopes of forever and someone to come along and fill in those fractures with thier own heart.

They say 19 is too young to be a cynic. But when your heart gets broken for the first time before the age of 11, whose to say. To stop believing in love does not inquire a lack of hope that love is out there, but merely to accept the fact that it is less likely to happen that it is to not. TO look in my eyes and see deep would be to allow your heart to experience the gripping hairline fractures of a witness to pain, a witness to what it is like to live every day in the clutches of something you cannot beat, but cannot succumb to either. So, what is left to do?


113.0

Party if You Can Rememberr

Down another three pounds... I never would have guessed it though, really. I suppose one good thing from the horrible experience last Wednesday is that it kind of turned me around. I guess that's what happens when you snort a hella lot Ativan and then the only thing you remember is watching a movie about ED with your ED friend. Honestly, I barely remember from ten minutes after doing it until the morning two days later... Everyone thought I was just really sick. Thankfully, no one pressed that I go to the hospital - not sure that is necessarily a good thing, really. However, whenever I eat anything at my house or when I am out and get get to a private bathroom, I have been purging what ever possible. Then taking 5-8 lax a night... The one thing I DO remember from that morning after is that I weighed myself and remember seeing - almost told you how much I weigh!

I have two weeks from Sunday to get down to 100. Most certainly doable.

Going or Coming.

J.P.: First off, let me say, I look forward to your comments quite a bit that it scares me. Your questions were... intrigueing? But I will absolutely answer them, because why would I not, no?
Aiighty. 'Do I poop like diarrhera?' Pretty much yea.
'Is it something I get used to?' I wouldn't say used to per se. The above, yea I guess I got used to it, but.. I don't know, it's hard to explain. It's like me saying I got used to puking. Does that help :/ I'm not sure how else to put that, really.
'Do I take it in the morning or with meals...?' Never WITH a meal. And almost never in the morning unless I get really anxious. Usually I take it after a b/p or I eat more than I planned... Which usually occurs at night after I get home from work. (Which I really am trying to work on not doing. trying being the opperative word I suppose)
Keep the comments and questions coming, I appreciate them very much. <3

Earlier, I got a pretel at work from a friend and ate it. Which entirely set me off. I got home from work and ate more. Then, purged until it seemed at though there was a gaping hole in my throat. Realized I had no more lax, and even though I would then have to get gas, drove the the grocery store to pick more up. Thankfully no one realized I was gone. No one heard me coming or going. going or coming. Tomorrow: liquid fast.

P.S. I got both sides of my nose pierced yesterday. It looks quite cute, I think.

Ice... Cold...

Lately, I have been eating less and less. B/P less and less as well, gradually. For the past few days, I won't eat anything until five or six, but then I just want to continue eating...

Today:
Small Coldstone ice cream (too many calories) < Coffee, tea.

That was about five hours ago, and I am up .4 from before I left. I am out of lax, so today will be the first night in a little over a week without them. I am fucking terrified.

Sidenote: got both sides of my nose pierced today!